


Silver Horns

by Leila Cantrell (Rainbow_Gigglemug)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dracain, Dragons, Fantasy, Hermaphrodites, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Male/Male, Royalty, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29448225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Gigglemug/pseuds/Leila%20Cantrell
Summary: The kingdoms of Mythmalond and Shylneserine, once sister cities, have been at war for many years.Tomorrow, it will end.Crown Prince Ciran, known for his kind heart and strong wards, will marry the hidden heir of Mythmalond. Bound to the arrangement by his less than charitable and long since dead grandfather, Ciran both mourns and accepts this fate. Should his mate love or despise him, he shall hold steady.Varlaris, hidden Crown Prince of Mythmalond, one of the counsel of Ten Generals, has also accepted this arrangement much as he has accepted his siblings displeasure with his existence. Should his future mate love or despise him, he will thrive.
Relationships: Varlaris/Ciran





	1. o1

**Author's Note:**

> Something I started work on while taking a break from other work, I'm rather proud of how its going so far. I have no real plan aside from the bare basics for this but it's a concept I've had for a long time.
> 
> As always, this is a rough draft and is being posted here to get feedback and, hopefully, one day be published.
> 
> Enjoy!

Silver Horns

By Leila Cantrell

The city streets were covered in colorful streamers and citizens, flowers hung in wreaths, and vendors of all sorts had set up in every nook and cranny. Crown Prince Ciran watched large banners wave from his balcony, his face a stark contrast to the joyous celebration below. It was a face he could only show in the relative privacy of his chambers, a face reflected by his mother, if shadowed by remorse.

Below, the citizens and returning soldiers cheered for the end of the war between their kingdom, Shylneserine, and their again sister kingdom Mythmalond. The war between them had lasted centuries with near countless casualties.

It was not the end of the war that shadowed the royal family, but it’s cost.

On the marrow, King Feandris would arrive, his heir and youngest child by his side. An heir that none in Shyleserine knew, the best kept secret of Mythmalond.

Ciran turned as a knock sounded at his door, deep blue scales and dark hair glinting in the sunlight, and called “enter.”

King Taevic entered, in full royal regalia colored to complement his dusky green scales and blonde hair, waving at his escort to stay outside.

“Father, will the nobles not notice your absence?”

“No more than they have noticed yours.” The King moved to stand in front of his child, “your sister is entertaining them. Enough talk of the festivities, I've come to check on my son.”

“I’m as well as can be, father.”

King Taevic sighed, “that’s what I’m worried about.” He cupped his son’s cheek, large moss colored wings engulfing the two of them as he met Ciran’s amber colored eyes, “if there had been any other choice, you know I would have made it.”

Ciran gave him a sad smile, twining his tail around his father’s, “I know, truly. We must honor the agreement.”

“If I could bring your great-grandfather back and strangle him with his own tail I would.” Taevic shook his head in frustration, the chains and gems decorating his horns rattling at the motion, “ that contract was never meant for you. He made it with no intention of giving my aunt’s hand in marriage and ending the war, but to keep it secret for two generations, so many dead.”

Ciran took his father’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing the scales below his eyes, “that’s why it must be done father, I know this. Would I have preferred to find my own mate? Yes. But I will not allow this to destroy me, perchance my mate will be one I can love, perchance this is something that brings them as much disquiet as myself. It is not the marriage that causes my heart to sink, but the unknown of my intended.”

King Taeciv sighed, placing a hand over one of Ciran’s. “I have listened for many years to the goings on of Mythmalond, yet I learned nothing of this hier King Feandris claims.”

Ciran shook his head, placing his forehead to his father’s “it doesn’t matter. Now come, I suspect my sister and mother are long since tired of entertaining our nobles.”

As father and son broke apart to return to the festivitie, many leagues away and over the Dragon’s Spine mountains, in the kingdom of Mythmalond a more somber, yet still great, celebration was in motion within the mighty castle’s walls. At the head of a large, elegant banquet hall the Black Lady herself was in repose, her arrow shaped head resting in such a way that she could both watch the hall and her son and grandson. Her tremendous self was not an uncommon sight, the skill to shift between dragon and dracain, as their smaller forms were named, was one known to all and her protectiveness of her family even more so; her youngest grandchild, who reclined comfortably in the crook of her foreleg, in particular.

The celebration was two fold this day, both then end of the war and the first proper introduction of the crown prince, who, as it turned out, was none other than Varlaris, one of the ten generals of their armies. It had been a rather shocking revelation as those who’d served with and under Varlaris learned the truth. Once the surprise had faded, joy had taken over, for Varlaris was perhaps the best liked of the Ten, known for accompanying his men into battle, showing respect where it was due, and a natural affinity for calling others to follow him that had earned him his rank at such a young age, compared to the others. 

Varlaris felt his grandmother’s magic ghost over him, causing his cascade of maroon colored hair to waft softly, and the chains and chimes upon his silver horns to ring.

“Yes, grandmother?” He asked, soft blue eyes falling open.

“Simply seeing how you are, these old eyes ain’t what they used to be.”

Varlaris scoffed, “so you say, grandmother.”

There was a humorous glint in Lady Palora’s eye, “impertinent child. Tell me, in truth, are you well enough for tomorrow, littling?”

Varlaris sighed, turning his head to reveal heavy bandages covering his left eye, it was fortunate they were all that were left, as not four nights ago Varlaris wore bandages from neck to waist on that same side and his right leg was still bandages, though the brace had been removed. The scars from the wounds would linger, his sight forever damaged, but his wings and life had been spared and that was enough for Varlaris.

“They give me no pain, grandmother, beyond the irritation of the stares.”

Lady Palora scoffed, rolling a baleful eye at the numerous lords and ladies who’d done well to give her a wide berth, “simpering fools, the lot of them. We spend near an age in a dark and bloody war and they expect our soldiers to come back whole and unblemished.”

“It reminds them of their mortality, I think.” Hummer Varlaris, “we can live to ages uncomprehending yes can still be slain by sword or arrow, it frightens them, but it is a good fear they should have had long before my time.”

“Paugh, that is no excuse for your siblings, prancing around as if the stars hung from their fingertips.”

Varlaris laughed a bitter laugh, “that is not my scars. I have heard them in the night, when they think they are being secret and cunning. They are angry for they thought one of them was the hidden heir, and that myself was nothing more than a rumor started by their father.”

Lady Palora grumbled and motioned to a nearby servant to bring the two of them some wine. A large bowl for herself, and a rather fashionable goblet for Valaris.

“And where is your father in all this, I wonder.”

Valaris took a calm sip from his drink, enjoying it’s cool sweetness before speaking again.

“He is conflicted, ever has he loved me as his child but we were forced into secret and separation. I see his love, and match it with my own as only a child can, but he does not know me and that saddens him just as much as it angers him. My sibling’s actions are helping nothing as he has had to vouch for my authenticy with nearly every breath. They are celebrating my removal from the palace, not realizing it does not remove me from the line of ascension.”

“They should bring their doubts to me, as I’m the one who chose you as the next king. They pitter patter about, caring only for the approval of their lord and ladies and care nothing for those of lower standing.” She brushed her tail with Varlaris’ own, causing the rings upon it to jingle, “you know better. Without the commonwealth and the peasant, the farmer and the potter, a kingdom falls. And they wonder why I didn’t choose any of them,” she huffed, “do you know, they’ve sent me countless bribes disguised as gifts, hoping I would declare one of the next for the crown?”

Varlaris chuckled into his drink, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”  
There was the sound of a clear horn and the music in the hall changed. Guests began to line up and form rows, preparing for one of their festive and passed down dances. Varlaris and Lady Palora watched their whirling skirts and jewels for a time before Palora spoke once more.

“You have said nothing of your thoughts concerning your mate to be.”

“I have no thoughts, or rather, I have no thoughts worth mentioning. I’ve heard tales of Prince Ciran’s generosity, his charm, his skill as a warder and warrior, but they are but tales. They may bear seeds of truth, but they do not show the full bloom.”

“You read too much poetry,” Palora teased. “I’ll accept your judgment, or lack thereof, so long as you keep in mind that, should he harm you in any way, you need only call me and I shall be there in a blink to eat him.”

Varlaris laughed, catching the eye of his father and a handful of his kin that he paid no mind, “I shall grandmother, I shall.”


	2. Chapter 02

Chapter 02

As the false dawn gave way to the true light of the mourning, a glimmering portal came into existence within Shylneserine’s palace’s great hall. Upon the throne sat King Taevic, to his right sat the Queen Denowen and his left, Prince Ciran. They stood as the first figure coalesced within the portal’s shifting colors, and the Dark Lady Palora stepped through, resplendent in her dark gown and trailing sheer fabric and glittering dark beads. She was followed by King Feadris, who was flanked by two of his oldest daughters and followed by the rest of his children, all adorned in shimmering garments and sparkling jewels.

“Hail, Dark Lady Palora and King Faedris, I bid you welcome to my kingdom and my hall. May I introduce my wife Queen Denowen, and my heir Prince Ciran.”

“We thank you for your generosity, King Taevic.” Said King Faedris, “allow me to introduce my grandmother Lady Palora, and my children, me eldest, Princess Yerith, Princess Lenaren.” At each name his children stepped forward with a bow, “Princes Iseris, Prince Zathriel, Prince Sarren, Prince Leron, Princess Diren, Princess Seraril, and my youngest and heir, Prince Varlaris.”

At his name, Varlaris’ siblings parted, allowing him to stand before King Taevic. Ciran, after seeing the line of earthy brown scales and horns of his siblings, was surprised by Varlaris’ bronze scales and glittering silver horns that rang with small chimes. He stood proudly, with hair pulled back in simple braids, in robes made of rich brown leathers and pale greens instead of soft, shimmering silks. A feeling of recognition buzzed in the back of Ciran’s mind, but he couldn’t quite place what was causing it.

Varlaris’ offered a true bow to the King and Queen of Sythlneserine, arms held apart and hands facing towards them, before stepping back amongst his siblings.

Introductions done, King Taevic made a sweeping motion, “I believe we have matters to discuss, King Faendris, before the wedding is set to begin. I have had a room prepared, unless you wish to rest before business?”

“Business before pleasure,” King Faendris replied.

“Very well then, I've servants to show your company to their rooms,” King Taevic nodded to King Feandris’ children, “should you need anything, they will assist you. Feel free to explore the palace, though not all doors will open to you, the servants will guide you.”

“Perchance Prince Ciran and Prince Varlaris may take this time to become acquainted?” said Queen Denowen.

King Feandris cast a look towards Varlaris, who gave a near imperceptible nod.

“They shall be surprised of course.” Said King Feandris.

“Nonsense,” cut in Lady Palora, “they shall be overcrowded and gawked at enough in a few hours, allow them some peace.” Her gaze settled on Ciran, “know that you and I will be having a talk before you wed my grandchild, Princeling.”

King Taevic looked to King Feandris, expecting the King to fight, only to find him clenching his jaw.

“If the King and Queen are amendable, I shall not deny it.” He said through his teeth.

King Taevic then looked at his wife, who nodded her agreement before addressing their company again, “very well. Bririel,” a young servant approached, “I would like you to show Prince Varlaris his rooms. Then you shall escort both Ciran and the Prince to the royal family gardens and make sure they are to be left alone unless they call upon someone.”

Ciran offered Varlaris a bow as their families left, though Varlaris didn’t appear to acknowledge it as he turned on his heel to follow his servant. His siblings turned their nose up at him, but Ciran let it be, his mind was abuzz with questions and possibilities concerning his mate to be and that niggling feeling.

Varlaris took the chance to look around the palace as he followed the servant, though compared to the elegance of the throne room there was little to see in the corridors. Here and there they passed a tapestry or a painting, a sculpture or two. It was a rather pitiful attempt at distracting himself from anxious thought, the first being why he was being given personal rooms.

As they turned a corridor, passing a rather large archway, Varlaris found himself bathed in the mourning light. As his eyes adjusted to the sudden change, Varlaris was left breathless. They had entered a corridor lined with large windows, each a stained glass mural, what they depicted Varlaris could only guess yet the sight of the glittering colors enchanted him. Such corridors in his kingdom would have been left open, the harsh winds and biting cold a testament to his kingdom's harsh and enduring beauty. Just beyond the glass he could see sprawling grass and flowers. There was a polite cough and Varlaris fought down a blush at the realization that a servant had had to call for his attention. He said nothing, moving at a brisk walk until he and the servant had resumed their path.

His rooms were just as warm, though he was unsure of why he was being given rooms in the first place. Lush carpets in warm hues were spread over the floor, there was a large fireplace with a plush lounge in front of it, he had his own bathing room, a bed that could fit himself an five others in the sleeping chambers, and even an enchanted room that was much larger inside than it should have been, ment, as the servant explained to his curious glance, to be a room he could shift in if he so wished, it would change to become any environment he wanted and would always remain comfortable. The most prominent thing of the room, however, is the pair of large stained glass windows, each depicting a divers flower field and a sprawling blue sky, that brace the set of ornate doors to a balcony overflowing with lush blooming vines and overlooking what Varlaris could only assume was a portion of the royal gardens.

Varlaris could help running his fingers over the soft petals of a large orange flower, it’s sweet perfume was almost dainty, “so many blooms…” he murmured. He shook his head and turned towards the servant, “I believe you are to lead me to the royal gardens?”

Ciran forced himself to stop picking at his clothes for the fifth time since he arrived at the fountain that acted as the center of the royal gardens. Though little time had passed it seemed to drag on and on, and his thoughts wouldn’t quite. He’d just started to pick again when he heard footsteps coming his way, though the gate was strange, he knew only one other could be there. As Varlaris came into view, Ciran got his answer in the slight limp of the others right leg.

Ciran straightened and bowed, “Prince Varlaris.”

“Well met, Prince Ciran.” Varlaris replied, offering a bow in kind. “In light of our upcoming marriage, perhaps we can dispense with the formalities?”

Ciran nodded, “of course Pri-, ah, Varlaris.”

The silence coiled around them, sliding across their skin and settling heavy and uncomfortable on the duo’s shoulders the more time passed, Ciran staring at the falling water, unsure of how to ask the questions filling his mind, and Varlaris acting as if the flowers around him were the most fascinating things in the world while trying to find what to say.

A sudden cry startled the two, they looked up to see a small flock of creatures dive from the sky. Varlaris stumbled back as they swirled around Ciran with happy churrs and chirps and cries of ‘Prince Ciran!’. 

Varlaris watched, lips quirked with a slight smile as he watched the other prince being mobbed by the flock of fairies. He wasn’t surprised that so many would be here, the gardens were vast and lush, a perfect habitat for them. He was pleased to see Ciran treat the little creature with care, allowing them to flutter about his hair and rest on his arms and horns.

His blush was rather adorable too.

“Shiny!”

“Oh, new person!”

“So pretty!”

Varlaris blinked in surprise as over half the fairies broke away from Crian and surrounded him, flocking to his horns and hair.

“So pretty and shiny!”

“Who are you? Will you be our friend?”

“Oh, it would look so pretty with flowers!”

“Ringy chimes!”

There was a sudden collective gasp.

“Oh no! Broken!”

“Does it hurt?”

“Does it?”

“Hurt?”

Varlaris, feeling a bit overwhelmed, gave the fairies what he hoped was a reassuring smile, “it’s alright, it doesn’t hurt. My name is Varlaris and no, I wouldn’t mind being your friend. Allow me to sit first, then you may braid flowers into my hair if you like.”

“Yay!”

“Flowers! We need flowers!”

Ciran was the one smiling now, as the fairies scattered, gathering flowers to braid into their new friends hair. He stepped closer as Varlars settled on the side of the fountain.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think to warn you of our herd of fairies. They’re a little overwhelming but harmless.“

Varlaris waved his apology away, “they mean no harm. I am not surprised they are here, the gardens are particularly lush and vibrant.”

“Yes, this is one of my and my mother’s favorite places.”

Varlaris smoothed an imaginary wrinkle on his skirts, “why was I given separate rooms?”

“Ah, well, it was a suggestion from father. He thought it may be a more comfortable arrangement as we get to know one another, instead of throwing us into the same space right after our wedding.”

Varlaris nodded, “and the flowers?”

“Flowers?”

“Yes, there were many plants and flowers.”

Ciran hummed, settling on the fountain’s edge as well, “it must have been mother.”

“Then I shall have to thank her, they are quite beautiful.”

Ciran watched the fairies braiding flowers into Varlaris hair for a moment, gathering courage, and hoping he wasn’t about to put his foot in his mouth.

“May I ask of your wounds?”

Reflexively Varlaris brushed his hand over his eye, and Ciran near tripped over himself to correct his question.

“Forgive me, I meant to as if they caused you pain, you were limping when you arrived and-”

“Calm,” said Varlaris with a slight smile, “you’ve done nothing wrong, Ciran. My wounds are still healing and yes, my leg causes me pain from time to time. There was significant damage to the muscles, it will take much longer to heal than my face. Even then, the healers warned there may be lingering damage.”

“Would it be offensive if I asked you to allow our healers to look at them? I-”

“Mean no insult, yes I know. Had you suggested such to my father he would be insulted, but I am not my father. Perhaps your healers know something ours did not, I will meet with them after our wedding.”

Ciran felt himself flush at the mention of their wedding, “right, our wedding.”

“We’re finished!”

“Yes, so pretty!”

“Shiny and pretty!”

“Look now look now!”

Using magic only the fearis held, the formed a small circle and within appeared a mirror of Varlaris.

“Oh,” he said faintly, turning to get a better look at the flower chains expertly braided into his hair and about his horns.

Ciran smiled as the other stood and began turning about to see flowers, it was such an innocent thing for someone who looked like he could toss him over the fountain with one hand.

“They look wonderful, thank you little ones.”

“I agree, well done.” 

The fairies squealed and giggled, chittering to one another on how good a job they’d done. Ciran and Varlaris shared an amused glance.

“Ciran. Prince Varlaris.”

The duo turned quickly to see Queen Denowen standing only a few feet away. Varlaris offered her a bow she waved away.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but it is time for preparations. However, before we part, Prince Varlaris,” Queen Denowen stepped close and revealed a delicate purple flower in her hand, “May I?”

Valars looked between the bloom and the Queen’s face, before giving a tentative nod. Queen Denowen gave a bright smile and, being sure to telegraph her intention, placed the bloom behind Varlars’ ear.

“Ciran said I have you to thank for the flowers in my room, Queen Denowen.”

“Just Denowen, please, and you are welcome.” Her gaze turned hard, “I don’t want to be misunderstood, Prince Varlaris, so I shall be as straightforward as possible. I am not happy that my son has been forced into marriage, that does not mean I am unhappy he is marrying you.” She sighed, “Once the ceremony is finished, you will be just as much my son, as Ciran.” Her posture relaxed at the Varlaris’ startled look, “You were forced into this just as much as my son, Prince Varlaris, I know this. My wish is that you can be happy here, with us, given time and perhaps, the two of you come to love one another as mates do. However, should that not happen, know that I will not turn you aside. Should you need anything, come to me, and I will welcome you with open wings.”

Varlaris didn’t know what to say, the most he’d hoped for was acceptance from the royal family but to be openly claimed as family by the Queen, the rings on his tail clinked together as it twitched. 

Queen Denowen took pity on the flustered prince, stepping aside and motioning to the path, “your grandmother a waytes.”

“Ah, yes, I shouldn’t keep her waiting,” Varlaris said in a rush as he bowed to her once more before hurrying past her.

“Prince Varlaris,” Queen Denowen called just before he was out of sight, she continued when he paused and turned back, “the flowers are quite fetching. I hope you keep them for the wedding.”

Varlaris felt himself flush, “thank you.”

Queen Denowen let out a soft laugh as the prince hurried away.

“He is quite adorable.”

Ciran sighed, “Mother, you shouldn’t have embarrassed him like that.”

“I did no such thing, I think I overwhelmed him.”

“And that's better?” Ciran asked with a tilt of his head.

She smiled and cupped Ciran’s face, placing a kiss on his brow despite his grumble, “ you and he will do great things together. Now come, you must get ready, you can’t be late to your own wedding.”

Ciran shook his head, following his mother, he’d never understand her but gods did he love her.


End file.
